The Forgotten Crown

Chapter 3: The Awakening Heir

I lay awake as the first light of dawn seeped through the cracks in my curtains, painting thin golden lines across the ceiling. Sleep had been elusive, chased away by the weight of the ancient book resting on my nightstand and the whispers of shadows that seemed to linger even in the safety of my room. Tim's steady breathing was a small comfort, but his nightmare echoed in my mind.

A shadow chasing him, claiming it was coming for me.

I sat up slowly, careful not to wake him, and reached for the book. The leather felt cool under my fingertips, the embossed crown almost pulsing with an energy of its own. Flipping it open to the page with Thorne's name, I traced the letters, trying to make sense of how my enigmatic professor was entwined in all of this.

"Only the heir shall unlock its power... a burden to protect, a gift to bind... the one true of heart..."

The words blurred as my eyes strained to focus. I needed answers, and there was only one person who could provide them, whether he wanted to or not.

Decision made, I scribbled a quick note for Dad, leaving it on the kitchen table next to the untouched plate of toast he'd set out for me. Guilt pricked at me-I hated sneaking around-but I couldn't drag him or Tim into this any further. The shadows were mine to face.

The crisp morning air bit at my cheeks as I hurried toward the university. The campus was nearly deserted at this hour, the usual bustle replaced by an eerie quiet. Thorne's office was tucked away in the oldest building, a stone structure that seemed more castle than school. Fitting, I thought, considering the secrets it apparently held.

I hesitated outside his door, my hand hovering just above the polished wood. What if confronting him was a mistake? What if he was part of whatever threat was closing in around me? But then I remembered Tim's frightened eyes, the cryptic note from Grandma, the shadows that seemed all too real.

I knocked firmly.

"Enter," came Thorne's voice, muffled but unmistakable.

I pushed the door open to find him seated behind an imposing desk cluttered with worn books and scattered papers. He looked up, surprise flickering across his sharp features before settling into a guarded expression.

"Miss Blackwood. To what do I owe this early visit?"

I closed the door behind me, the click sounding louder than it should have. "We need to talk," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "About the Crown. About my family. And about how you're connected to all of this."

He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. "I see you've been doing some reading."

I pulled the book from my bag and placed it on his desk. His eyes widened ever so slightly as he glanced at the cover. "My grandmother left this for me. It mentions you by name."

Silence stretched between us. Finally, he sighed, gesturing to the chair opposite him. "Sit down, Mara. There are things you need to understand."

I remained standing. "Then start explaining."

He regarded me thoughtfully. "Very well. Your family, the Blackwoods, have been the guardians of the Forgotten Crown for centuries. It's not just a relic-it's a source of great power, a nexus between realms."

"Realms?" I echoed skeptically, though after everything, the concept didn't seem as far-fetched as it might have days ago.

He nodded. "Our world is but one of many. The Crown serves as a key, maintaining the balance. But if it falls into the wrong hands..." He trailed off, the implication clear.

"And you? What's your role in this?"

"My family has been allied with yours for generations. We're the Keepers of Knowledge-the historians, if you will. It's my duty to guide the heir when the time comes."